Nobady knows
by Hazuki Konata
Summary: If Simba looked after Scar, who became like a doll after the fight for the thrown. In this story MufasaxScar is implied. I wrote english story for the first time. Please point out any mistake in it.


In a land, not in the savanna. The characters are anthropomorphized. This story contains adult theme.

There was a beautiful garden on top of the hill, where all of the view of the land could be seen. Simba, the king of the Pride Land, was walking to the garden to take his _family_ home.

The sunset was coming and the shine flamingly poured into a man on a wheel chair, who sat around in the big garden alone. His sculpted face was dyed red. His long shadow stretched out behind him and a visitor stepped on it.

"Uncle Scar," Simba called him. The man, called Scar, turned half his head and glanced at the red-haired man. His dark eyelashes smoothly passed his green eyes, at that moment; a puff of wind blew and got his long dark hair tousled.

"It's getting cold," said Simba. Kneeling down to his uncle, he took his hands and said in a gentle tone.

"Let's go home now."

Scar gave no expression.

His emerald green eyes were like covered with thin films. To say more, they just gave reflections of their front like glassy eyes of a doll as though his sprit no longer stayed there. Actually a horrible experience deprived Scar of what had formally organized him: his alluring smirk, sarcastic manner, moreover his words all.

The young king couldn't forgive him yet, but he believed it would be fruitless to dare take vengeance to Scar who became as helpless as a baby.

After the fight for the throne, he found Scar lie on the ground and his legs especially heavily wounded because his old companies got angry at his treacheries and tried to kill him. As Simba took his body up, Scar got completely confused at the sight of the very similar face with his brother. Then he cried out madly as though his heart turned apart. Some confessed later that Scar had been suffered from the dilutions of the late king; it was difficult to say that he had been always in order.

Simba sharply hit the struggling man on the stomach and made him black out. For a moment he stared at him. As Simba blushed off Scar's thin cheeks and lips, in his eyes there was a flicker from confusion. "Miserable, how miserable he is…," he thought. Any anger did not come up. He finally lifted him up and took to the Pride Rock.

At first his family and subjects rejected Simba's proposal that he would take along Scar to their land. Some people insisted on exile, even the execution of murder. However, when they looked the pity old king with their own eyes and Simba solemnly said before them, "You must understand that Scar is as good as dead. What sort of interests would more punishment yield? Hatred only breeds more hatred."

Then, they accepted the forgiving words of Simba who must have been most suffered from Scar's misdeed.

Simba combed Scar's dark hair, which had been in a little mess teased by the wind, and took up a hank of it and kissed gently. Scar childishly inclined his head, for he might not understand what Simba meant. The young king made a benignant smile, feeling curious affection for his uncle.

The mercy often turns to a sort of love; now it happened actually.

"Even dad must have never seen such a helpless uncle…_only I _now have a choice of his fate."

And love sometimes embraces desire to have someone all to oneself…

He gave one more kiss to uncle's left eyelideye with a scar and chuckled to himself. The young man gingerly folded his arms around him as though he were fragile one.

Scar let Simba as he wanted. He just inclined his face into nephew's wider shoulders than his.

The red hair tickled his nose and also his heartstrings. He felt it somehow familiar, though he forgot a man with similar crimson hair who had once loved him. It was his brother, who was killed for the secession to the throne.

Scar also forgot that he had once experienced painful lust with him; felt the hair lay down on his back and short breath put into his neck; heard him whisper sweetly behind. Those ways raptured him, but his inner confusion of hate and lust always stung him. He hated his brother and also himself whose body reacted tamely.

"Scar…"

The deep voice called him from somewhere. Suddenly his eyes widened and glinted. He grasped nephew's body and buried his crawls into the shoulders deeply. His parted lips slightly moved from some shapes to others. They ran just like when he had called brother's name.

It implied an awakening of _some _feeling. The affection he had had long ago or hatred which had driven him into regicide. In any case it is not for his nephew. Only the great past king occupied his mind.

Simba, holding his uncle with a happy face, never knew such a thing.

The sun had gone. The star-filled sky began covering two men all.

End


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